


Ravaged Hearts

by SherLokid92



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Thor (2011), Ravager!Lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherLokid92/pseuds/SherLokid92
Summary: Following the fall off the Bifrost, Loki ends up in the backwaters of the universe and gets picked up by a handsome Ravager Captain. Following an attempted mutiny that has left the Baker Street severely understaffed, the last thing Ravager captain Sherlock Holmes needs is a wounded Asgardian prince on his hands. But between combined enemies, flirtatious crewmates, and impish ship mothers, the pair are in for a wild ride trying to deny their feelings. Set post Thor, this sees what might have happened if Thanos hadn't caught Loki.





	Ravaged Hearts

I

Loki hugged his knees tighter to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. Hiding from your enemies in an alley may not have been the Asgardian way, but the exiled prince was beyond exhausted as well as caring. He had been fighting throughout the alien market the Bifrost black hole had dropped him into all day. To be fair, he had instigated a few of those fights in his sour mood but many had been quite unprovoked and he was sick of fighting. He had not expected to survive the fall to begin with, he had yet to actually decide if what was left of his life was worth saving.

The god hissed as he slowly unfolded himself, praying that his most recent pursuers had grown bored of him. He was certain that underneath his heavy armor his body was one giant bruise. His golden armor was now a dull bronze from the layers of mud, blood, and grime coating it. His cape was beginning to tatter and shred from the skirmishes. He groaned, leaning heavily on the wall behind him. He wiped at his mouth, hoping to at least lessen the metallic copper taste tainting his tongue. His alley hideout didn’t offer much protection from the elements, making him grateful for the thick layers under his armor roasting him. 

Loki let his eyes slide shut as waves of exhaustion rolled through him. He should probably try to scavenge for food. He hadn’t had a chance to eat since he fell through the hole. But sleep was proving far more alluring than the dull ache in his stomach. Besides he wasn’t quite sure if the ache was caused by hunger or mass bruising.

“Well, what is this?” Loki jolted out of his exhausted stupor at the voice, instantly alert. He looked up at the tall figure looming over him. A pair of icy blue eyes stared back down at the fallen prince, regarding him with steely interest. Dark curls framed those eyes and sharp cheekbones. Loki reached slowly for a dagger as his eyes drifted downwards, recognizing his watcher’s coat: Ravager. 

Although this was his first time encountering one in person, Loki had heard his fa-Odin complain about the Ravagers with other keepers of Galactic peace many times. Composed of at least a hundred different factions, the Ravagers patrolled this universe without law, stealing whatever valuables they could and killing those who weren’t valuable. And Loki imagined an Asgardian Royal was considered very valuable, if word hadn’t yet spread. “What do you want?” he finally growled, trying to sound more intimidating than he actually looked.

“Put your dagger away, Prince Loki. It’s not a fair fight if your opponent is half dead.” The Mischief God simply glared, still wary of the Ravager’s intentions. “Besides, I’m far more interested in why an Asgardian prince in hiding in some forsaken alleyway looking like someone’s personal punching bag?” 

“Go to Hel,” Loki spat, forcing himself to stand. Unfortunately, the effort didn’t last long as one of his ribs protested the movement. He collapsed and would have added another bruise to the collection had the Ravager not caught him. 

“You need medical attention.” 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” The Ravager chuckled as he carefully adjusted his grip on Loki. 

“Billy, do we have any spare rooms on Baker Street?” The Ravager seemingly asked thin air.

“Several actually since you kicked those mutineers off ship,” a mechanical voice answered. “Your new friend appears to be injured. Should I call Dr. Watson back?” 

“If you don’t mind.” 

“On it, Captain.” 

“Thank you, Billy.” The Ravager captain pressed the skull on his belt as Loki scowled. 

“What do you want, Ravager?” Loki was grateful for the apparent kindness, but he wasn’t stupid. Nothing in life was free, and he was not going to become yet another person’s bargaining chip. Never again. “Why are you helping me?” 

“Because I can only deduce so much, your highness. I’m still curious as to why you are here.” Loki chuckled darkly despite himself. This Ravager was very perceptive.   
“What makes you think I’m Loki?” He was the recluse of the royal family after all.

“Your armor mostly. It’s Asgardian in make and prior to your stint here was kept in pristine condition. Only a royal would keep their armor so meticulously polished,” he answered quickly, almost as if it was all stream of consciousness. “The cape is a good indicator to who you are. Colored rather than metallic, again either king – which you are a touch young for even by Asgardian standards – or princes. You don’t seem to have the build to swing a magic hammer, so Loki it is.” 

“I could have stolen his armor,” Loki countered cautiously.

“Aren’t you supposed to be known as a Silvertongue?” The god chuckled despite himself. This Ravager was not going to be convinced he was not the Asgardian prince. Something about his tenacity and surety definitely piqued Loki’s interest. If he wasn’t certain he was going to end up a score, Loki may even say that his new ally/captor was attractive. 

“I’m not that valuable. Clearly, word doesn’t travel to this intergalactic back water.” The last sentiment was muttered under the Trickster’s breath as the limping pair narrowly avoided slop being dumped out a window.

“That depends on what you consider valuable, milord. But if you’re worried about being held as ransom, that’s not my style,” The Ravager explained. “You just looked like an interesting story. And I happen to have a spare bed and an open position on my crew. You in?” 

“Why should I be?” Loki groaned. Black was starting to creep into his vision and the last thing he wanted was to pass out in the Ravager’s arms. “I don’t even know who you are.” Granted, the trickster might not have any say in the matter. The Ravager chuckled some but his humor faded when he saw Loki’s deteriorating state. 

“My name is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. Are you alright?” Loki didn’t have a chance to answer as his wounds and exhaustion finally won out and he collapsed in Sherlock’s arms. 

***Hooked on Deductions***

Sherlock had just tucked his new crewmate into bed when John Watson finally appeared. “Billy said someone was wounded?” Sherlock nodded, gesturing to the passed-out Asgardian. John – as Sherlock expected – seemed only mildly surprised by the bruised mess. “Picking up strays now are we?” 

“I found him hiding in an alleyway. Made him follow me home,” Sherlock explained, as if this was as every day an occurrence as breathing. It wasn’t as if John was going to question his methods. “He got into several fights.” 

“Obviously. Any idea who he is?” John asked, starting to carefully examine his unconscious patient. Sherlock ran a hand through his dark curls, making them even messier than usual.

“He’s an Asgardian prince.” As expected, John stiffened at that. Sherlock found a particularly interesting grate panel to kick at, though he could still feel John’s disapproving look boring into his skull. “Loki. I suspect. He wouldn’t confirm it.” Good job, Holmes. Dig yourself deeper.

“Sherlock, you said we weren’t going to do kidnapping gigs. So why do we have an injured prince on our ship?” 

“I didn’t bring him for any ransom.” Sherlock wasn’t quite sure why he had picked up his new charge in all honesty. He just looked so pathetic tucked between garbage and undesirables compared to his impressive armor. Sherlock shook his head to clear it before turning to the nearest computer, hoping to confirm his suspicions about their new guest. He knew for a fact it was the Asgardian prince but he felt like sparing John the long deduction. “Besides he could be useful in other ways.” 

“Not as a giant bruise he can’t. Any good gossip?” Sherlock shrugged, continuing to look as the sounds of plinking armor started to fill the small cabin. He scratched at his ear, frowning. There was always something about metal on metal that irritated his ears.

“Not much of interest. No good jobs either. Oh!” The captain smirked some.

“What, Sherlock? Someone looking for your new friend?” 

“Just the opposite actually. It would appear Asgard thinks he’s dead.”

“That could prove useful to us,” John conceded as if Sherlock had not already made up his mind about Loki staying. “Don’t have to worry about his enemies but we’ll probably want to avoid Asgard for a while.” Sherlock shrugged.

“Not like we get much business there anyway. Far too high and mighty to consistently hire Ravagers.” Sherlock shut the computer down, turning to John and his patient. John had gotten Loki’s armor off, exposing a leather-bound torso. “We’ll just have to hope he doesn’t have that many enemies outside of Asgard.” The look on John’s face was the lovechild of sheer incredulity and overwhelming doneness. You would think he would be used to Sherlock’s antics by now. 

“Judging by his current condition, I find that highly unlikely.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

“Can you help him? Is there something you need to fix him up?” 

“Just my med kit. He’s a mite heavier than I can carry.” 

“Well go on. I’ll sit with him,” Sherlock ordered, already making his way to the bed. “I doubt he’s in a position to go anywhere.” 

“Better to be safe than sorry.” The former Nova corpsman patted Sherlock’s shoulder as he passed. “Be careful, Sherlock. If he wakes up, we don’t yet know how dangerous he could be.” 

“I’m well aware of that, Joh. I’ll be fine.” Sherlock was fairly certain he had said that far sharper than necessary but he did not understand his first mate’s sudden overprotectiveness actions. The older man just rolled his eyes and stormed off, leaving Sherlock with Baker Street’s newest reluctant resident.

So now the presumed dead Prince Loki was sleeping somewhat soundly on Sherlock’s ship. And the Ravager captain had no bloody idea why. Sherlock did not take sympathy cases. Emotions made things far too messy. That was part of the motivation for the near mutiny a few weeks ago. The last thing he needed was to step right into that again. And if only half of what the reports about Loki said were true, he would be just that. If Sherlock had any wits left to him, he would dump that disgraced prince at the next friendly market as soon as he was healed if not sooner.

Loki flinched in his sleep as Sherlock sat on the bed beside him. For someone with such an… interesting reputation, he seemed far more childlike as he slept. Unlike most of his fellow Asgardians, the Trickster was beardless and sported paler skin than would be expected of battle happy warriors. This god preferred to remain indoors while the other warriors trained, Sherlock suspected. But he could still hold his own in a fight, since he seemed to just be thoroughly bruised. Moriarty’s Market was just as ruthless as its namesake and had a tendency to eat the weak alive. Loki must to have been ridiculously determined to survive. And so far, he had. That was impressive. For any other realm, he would have called it a miracle for a prince to survive this long.

“So, what are we going to do with you, your highness?” Whether or not he stayed on the ship long term, Loki could not be just left to his own devices. Not with Baker Street now slightly understaffed. As strangely beautiful as Loki was despite the large bruise encircling one eye, Sherlock in no way trusted him. The Asgardian Prince was known as a trickster, even this far out in the galaxy. Tricksters were not famous for their trustworthiness. He hated to admit it and would never do so out loud, but John was right to be suspicious of the god. 

Sherlock sighed before very carefully starting to peel the remaining leather/cotton layer off his unconscious charge. This way John wouldn’t have to worry about it when he returned. He could already imagine the fuss the royal would raise when he awoke to find himself half – stripped. The Ravager captain suspected there were more injurie below Loki’s waistline but he could already hear John’s lecture on privacy in his head. That made absolutely no sense to him, but whatever. Normal people were strange anyway. Especially former Nova corpsmen.

When he finally got Loki’s shirt off – why the hell was this stick so damn heavy – and saw the mottled rainbow there, Sherlock decided he actually wasn’t that excited to see what his lower half looked like. Best to leave such work to John’s professional hands. Besides didn’t Asgardians heal at a faster rate from most races? He’ll probably be fine soon.

Besides now that he could see the god’s chiseled physique, Sherlock needed to focus on how to keep him from distracting the rest of his crew from their duties. Molly probably wouldn’t be nearly as bad if she was still obsessed with him. Though she did seem to fancy “fix it” types. As for Mary, she was thoroughly tied to John, but she was not one to deny herself just a look. That last thing he needed was John getting jealous. And as for The Woman… God help this poor prince if Adler found him interesting. 

Sherlock quickly decided that he would make this hall a restricted area until they could determine if Loki would become a threat or not. It was best for the safety of his crew – or what was left of it. It made perfect sense and certainly had nothing to do with the sudden heat in his cheeks as he stared at the handsome prince. Nothing at all.


End file.
